


Smiling Faces Sometimes

by Annaelle



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annaelle/pseuds/Annaelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't know how long she's been in here. She doesn't know how long it's been since she last laid eyes on her friends and her family—since she last saw someone other than him. She can't comprehend that no one has bothered to come looking for her, that they don't care enough to look for her and she can't believe that about any of them. ZUTARA AU WITH CANON ELEMENTS-TWOSHOT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm not sure where this came from. I have never written anything for ATLA before. I always did like Zutara better than Kataang when I watched the show, but I never really did anything with that.
> 
> This'll be a twoshot, I think. Second part is almost finished, so it won't be long.
> 
> It can be classified as an AU, and it gets a little dark here and there-just a head's up :) Rated T for implied sexy times and violence.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!
> 
> Love,
> 
> Annaelle

**Smiling Faces Sometimes**

_Smiling faces sometimes pretend to be your friend_  
 _Smiling faces show no traces of the evil that lurks within_  
 _Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes_  
 _They don't tell the truth_  
 _—Smiling Faces Sometimes, Undisputed Truth_

**Katara**

She doesn't know how long she's been in here.

She doesn't know how long it's been since she last laid eyes on her friends and her family—since she last saw someone other than _him._

She knows it's been at least a few months—but less than nine months. She cannot comprehend it being more than that, because that would mean no one has bothered to come looking for her, that they don't care enough to look for her and she _can't_ believe that about any of them.

She curls in on herself, curling her fingers around the smooth metal of the ring that sits prettily on her left ring finger—the metal is always warm, and its weight is a constant reminder that she can't give up, no matter how long she's trapped in here. She has someone waiting for her out there (and she knows he is waiting for her, he has to be, he loves her, she knows he does) and she can't leave him like this.

She promised to never be that person.

They fought too hard to have a chance at a peaceful life only to have it taken away when they finally had it.

She shivers when she realizes she can't quite curl in on herself as tightly as she could before—her belly is swelling steadily, her only indication that time is indeed passing outside of her dark, lonely prison cell.

"It's okay," she whispers to her belly, rubbing it softly as she speaks, "It's okay, little one. Your Papa will come for us—he'll save us, I promise. We just have to hang in there until he does." A bittersweet smile twists her lips when she feels the soft kick on the inside of her belly, right about where her hand is resting—she wants to believe her own words, and she does, but there are moments (often when he comes in to feed her and taunt her) that even her strong heart is not strong enough to fend off all doubts.

Her blood is humming in her veins, and she knows that means a full moon is approaching—it makes her fidget uncontrollably. Full moons are usually around the time he shows up the most. She's fairly certain it's because he knows that while her bending is magnified by the power of the moon, her mental state is always more fragile on nights that the moon is full.

Even before he had locked her up in this place, he had known of the moon's power over her—they all had; they'd all travelled together long enough to notice.

She huddles a little closer to the wall on the small, thin bedroll, huddling under her flimsy blanket as her eyes begin to water with tears. She doesn't attempt to bend them to escape; she's tried before, many times, before she had realized it was not just her safety she compromised when she made him angry.

Now, all she can do is long for her family, for her friends, for her love—she even longs for the humid heat in the Fire Nation; anything but the dry, not quite freezing cold she feels here. Anything but the searing loneliness that is getting worse each day.

She has prayed to every deity that she knows of and pleaded with Yue and Roku and every other spirit out there, begging them to free her from his clutches—to free him from the clutches of his own mind; she knows he is still a good person.

She has to believe that, deep down, her friend is still alive.

She has to believe that the boy she had grown to admire and love as much as she loved her brother is still in there somewhere, even if he is lost in his inner turmoil and can no longer see what he is doing to himself—to her.

"La," she whispers, "Tui," she directs her eyes to the small, unreachable window near the ceiling, "Agni, please. I just need an opportunity—if you can't find it in yourself to save me, please save my child. She is innocent—and she will be the best of your people combined. She will love both fire and water, and she will unite the nations in a way no one else can. If you can't save me, at least return her to her father—find a way to show him the proof of our love. Please," a tear rolls down her cheek, her voice thick with emotion, "I'll do anything to keep her safe."

Of course, there is no answer—there never is, nor did she expect one.

Instead, she curls up on the ratty bedroll and closes her eyes, focusing on her breathing—she's had enough practice falling asleep in these circumstances lately.

She's asleep in minutes.

.

.

.

**Almost seven years ago**  
 **Hakoda**

_The sky is clear of any and all clouds for the first time in months, and the it is almost as though the entire village breathes out in relief at the same time. Hakoda has not felt this kind of peace and calm in many a year—if ever—and it unnerves him greatly._

_He is certain something is to happen soon, and he cannot decide if it will be good or bad._

_News of the war has been sparse and it frustrates him greatly; he wishes he could join the resistance in their efforts to bring an end to Ozai's tyrannical reign. Alas, he is well aware he cannot—not with two young children depending on him._

_"Papa, papa," Sokka screams as he runs towards him, "Look! There's a boat coming this way!"_

_Hakoda's eyes widen in alarm and he immediately runs towards the small wall he and his son had built around the village a while back, staring out over the icy ocean before him, easily spotting the small boat that is indeed heading towards their village—it is tiny; no bigger than an average-sized dinghy; and he wonders how in La's name the small boat made it this far onto the Southern Seas._

_"You have a good eye, m'boy," he tells his son proudly, patting Sokka's shoulder when his ten-year-old seems to swell up with pride after his father praises him. "Go watch over your sister while she practices," Hakoda then orders, gently offering his son a smile, "I will welcome our visitors."_

_Sokka nods, a determined look on his face as he hops off the wall and runs towards their home, where Hakoda knows his mother and his daughter will be—Katara will likely be playing with her water bending abilities once again, and if this boat does carry Fire Nation spies, he cannot risk letting them find out about Katara's skills._

_"Nanuq, Kesuk," he jumps from the ice wall, approaching the two men by the large fire in the village, "We have company—see to it that the women and children are safe inside the igloos. I do not know who they are, nor their intentions."_

_Nanuq, a man his own age with a son Katara's age, nods shortly and strides back towards where the women are washing clothes and skinning fish, to order them inside._

_Kesuk follows Hakoda back to the ice wall, frowning thoughtfully as he studies the boat that steadily grows larger. "Do we know anything?" He asks gruffly, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "They are not flying any nation's colors, are they?"_

_Hakoda shakes his head and sighs. "No. And I have received no messages from the other White Lotus members, so I am not expecting anyone."_

_"Perhaps," Kesuk offers hopefully, "They are simply sailors who were shipwrecked—who knows how long they have been on that boat." Hakoda smiles sadly; even after everything Kesuk had already seen, the young man insisted upon seeing the brighter—almost non-existent nowadays—side of things._

_"Aye," he nodded slowly, "Perhaps."_

_Fortunately, they are joined by the other men quickly as they wait for the small boat to dock. It holds only two men—one small and slight, curled up underneath a heavy coat and blanket, the other tall, portly and vaguely familiar to Hakoda, though he cannot quite see the man's face._

_"I think," he says slowly, when the man's face suddenly becomes clear, "That I wish to handle this one myself. Go see to your wives and children—tell them there is no threat. Kesuk," he turns to the kind young man, "Please go see to my mother and children; tell them that it is safe."_

_The men all nod, though some grumble in dissatisfaction—they had been looking forward to a good fight—and Kesuk bows slightly in respect before hurrying towards the family's large igloo._

_Hakoda swallows thickly before he makes his way over to the small, near-crumbling dock where the still-hooded man is tying up the dinghy while the smaller one still sleeps._

_"Iroh," Hakoda says dryly, crossing his arms over his chest, "I cannot say I was expecting to see you here. What brings you to the South Pole, my old friend?" He watches as Iroh rubs his hand over his face tiredly before striding over to where he is waiting._

_The two grasp each other's forearms in a tight grip, and for the first time since he had recognized his old friend, Hakoda allows himself to smile and to believe that seeing Iroh might not be a bad thing, as he had initially feared it would be._

_While Iroh was once the Great Dragon Of The West, one of the Fire Nations' proudest soldiers, he had retired a long time ago, and joined the Order of the White Lotus shortly after; and that is where he and Hakoda had met._

_"Hakoda," Iroh sighs, glancing back to the dinghy, where the second man is still sleeping, "I fear I may carry more bad than good news. My brother—" Both men wince at the reminder that Iroh is, in fact, related to the Fire Lord. "—my brother has truly lost his mind, I fear," Iroh continues, "He challenged my thirteen-year-old nephew to an Agni Kai for speaking out of turn."_

_Hakoda pales, nausea abruptly finding its way into his system as he tries to imagine challenging Sokka to such a horrendous challenge. "Spirits, please tell me he did not go through with it." His eyes stray back to the man—who is no more than a boy, he now realizes—who is still sleeping soundly in the dinghy, a feeling of absolute dread heavy on his stomach._

_Iroh drops his gaze and shakes his head sadly. "No. Alas, he followed through, even when my nephew pleaded with him, told him that he would not fight his own father—in return, my brother…" Iroh's breath catches, and Hakoda almost asks him not to continue because it's a kind of horror he simply can't imagine. "He burned him and then banished him. Banished us, actually, when I refused to let him send a child on a wild-goose chase to find the Avatar."_

_"Uncle?"_

_A soft, almost timid voice emerges from the dinghy, and Hakoda and Iroh both startle when a boy, not much older than Sokka, climbs from the boat, the thick coat and blanket still covering him. Hakoda bites his lip to stifle a horrified gasp at the sight of the stark white bandage that covers half of the boy's face._

_"Zuko," Iroh hurries towards the boy, presumably to introduce him, to tell him where they are, when Hakoda suddenly hears familiar laughter and squealing behind him—he barely manages to turn around in time to catch Katara as she launches herself at him, giggling delighted when Sokka—who is soaking wet—comes running towards them with the biggest pout Hakoda has ever seen on his face._

_He raises an eyebrow at his daughter, who just smiles innocently, before shaking his head and turning back to Iroh and the young boy—who, he's assuming, is Prince Zuko—, who are standing right behind him now._

_"Hakoda," Iroh smiles tightly, "this is my nephew, Prince Zuko. I hope you can offer us sanctuary, while he recovers."_

_Hakoda swallows, setting down his daughter as he pulls Iroh aside to discuss this sanctuary he would be offering the banished firebenders—because he knows Iroh is a bender, and he is fairly certain young Zuko is one as well; he could not have been in an Agni Kai if he was not a bender._

_Neither of the men pay any more attention to the children._

_Katara gazes up at the young boy before her, with golden eyes like she has never seen before—everyone at the Tribe has blue eyes; various shades, but all blue. She frowns at the white bandage and tilts her head to the side._

_"Does that hurt?"_

_She points at the bandage, smiling brightly when the boy looks at her funnily._

_"Not so much anymore," he finally replies, his voice a little off, "Who are you?"_

_She smiles sweetly and holds out her hand, like her Papa taught her to do when she was meeting someone new and says, "I'm Katara and that—" she points to where her daddy is talking to the other new person, "—is my Papa. Who are you?"_

_The boy looks at her hand strangely for a long time before he finally moves to hold it carefully, like he's afraid she'll bite or something. "I'm Zuko. The man he's talking to is my Uncle."_

_"Hi Zuko," Katara squeals excitedly—she loves meeting new people, since it doesn't happen all too often—gripping the boy's hand tightly, "We're going to be great friends!"_

.

.

.

**Katara**

"Katara," a voice coos in her ear, and for a moment, she allows herself the delusion that she's actually where she belongs—not in the cold, icky cell, but in her warm, comfortable bed back in the Fire Lord's palace with—

"Katara!"

The delusional bubble bursts immediately when she's jerked upright roughly. "Hey, what the hell?" She exclaims—even though she's learned long ago that talking back to him isn't a good idea anymore. Last time he had slapped her so hard, he'd split her lip and blackened her eye. She can see that darkness seep back into his grey eyes when she yells at him and cringes away from his touch immediately.

"I'm sorry," she whimpers, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't hit me—I didn't mean to be rude."

His features contort into something that she could've seen as a kind smile, once upon a time, but she knows better now.

"Oh, sweet, sweet, Katara," he coos, gently stroking her cheek, "You know I love you. I wouldn't hurt you. You just need to remember that we are in love."

Katara has to force herself not to flinch, to not back away from his touch—he seems to be in a good mood, and he has far too few of those. "I do love you," she has to force the words out of her mouth because they're just not true, because he's not him and nothing is ever going to change that she loves him, she's always loved him.

She just wishes everyone would have simply accepted it.

Of course, that is not what happened—nothing can ever been simple in her life, can it? Ever since she and Sokka found Aang in that iceberg… Hell, even before that, when she first met the scarred, damaged, banished prince of the Fire Nation when she was eleven and he was thirteen.

Her life stopped being simple the moment she laid eyes on him and his Uncle—the moment her father had accepted them into their Tribe to keep them both safe from the Fire Nation.

It stopped being simple when she and Zuko fell in love—it stopped being simple the moment he asked her to marry him when they were old enough—it stopped being simple when she accepted and promised she would wait for him when he had to take Uncle to the Earth Kingdom to find medicine for his illness.

Her life had been complicated a long time before she ever even found Aang.

She'd been thirteen when she promised Zuko she'd wait for him as long as he needed her to. She'd been fourteen when she and Sokka found Aang and started to travel the world with him after Zhao tried to capture him.

She'd been fifteen by the time she and Zuko had finally been reunited in Ba Sing Se, in 'The Jasmine Dragon'. She'd also been fifteen when she'd been forced to explain to Aang that while she cared deeply for him, she wasn't in love with him, and was never going to be.

She was seventeen and ready to marry the love of her life when she finally realized that Aang had never fully accepted that she was with Zuko.

By the time she did, it was too late.

"Good," Aang smiles that twisted little smile, "Good. Because I think it's time we start travelling together again—you know, so we can see everyone again before our baby is born—when he or she is here, we won't be able to travel for a while."

Katara barely registers anything he says—she doesn't even bother correcting him this time—the baby's not his, never was, never could have been—because he's going to let her out.

She nods eagerly—though she forces herself not to appear too eager. She doesn't want him to get suspicious and change his mind about letting her out—she needs the opportunity to escape Aang. If he's going to take her to see her brother and Suki, or even just her dad and Gran Gran, she'll be able to tell them what Aang is doing to her and they'll help her.

At the very least, even if they can't go up against Aang, they'll be able to tell Zuko and Toph and even Master Pakku and Bumi—if nothing else, they can contain Aang and help him get better. And she'll be able to go back to Zuko, to give birth to their baby, to marry him, just like they had always planned.

"Okay," she says shakily, "So… W—when are we leaving? And, uh, who—who are we going to see?"

The way his eyes light up makes her feel slightly nauseated, but she paints a smile on her face and waits for him to answer.

"Oh, we're seeing all of them," he grins manically, "One of our dear, dear friends is finally getting married—of course, he invited all of us to attend this happy occasion." Her stomach clenches and she swallows thickly—she knows it can't be good; he wouldn't be telling her this unless he had something else in mind.

"Oh," she manages, chewing on her lower lip nervously, "Who's… Who's getting married?"

Aang's smile becomes dark and sinister, and her heart squeezes painfully—she knows before he even says the words.

"Zuko is."

.

.

**.**  
 **Five years ago**  
 **Katara**

_"Do you have to?"_

_She knows it's a ridiculous, childish, selfish thing to ask, because of course he has to. It's not even a real question—he loves his Uncle; she loves his Uncle._

_"You know I do," he whispers, gently touching her cheek, "I wish you could come with me, but—"_

_Katara just smiles sadly and looks down, her fingers curling around his wrist to hold his hand to her cheek—she knows why she can't come with him and Uncle to the Earth Kingdom; it's inappropriate for her to travel with him, even with his Uncle as an escort, before they are married—and she won't be of marrying age for another three years._

_Uncle can't wait another three years to find medicine._

_"I love you," she says quietly, "I really wish you didn't have to go—not so shortly after dad…" She sighs and shakes her head again, "I know that it's stupid, but I'm so scared that you will just… Disappear as well."_

_Zuko smiles sadly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. "I know. And because I know that, I want to ask you something." He reluctantly pulls away from her, leading her towards the soft furs near the entrance of the igloo, so they may speak privately but comfortably._

_Katara watches as he pulls a small leather pouch from his pocket when they are seated, before he reaches for her hand—she willingly lets him have it, smiling a little at the heat radiating from his skin. She loves that he is always warm, that whenever she is cold and afraid, all she will have to do is reach for him and allow him to hold her, and she'll be warm and safe._

_"I am aware," he starts slowly, "that your grandmother is not yet convinced that I am a good match for you—perhaps I am not. I am sure you could find a far better suitor than a banished Fire Nation Prince, but," he sighs, "I can assure you that none would ever love you as I do."_

_He looks down, and she wants to tell him to stop hiding his beautiful golden eyes, she wants to tell him that she's never going to want another either—but she knows he will just tell her she is young still, that she may one day change her mind about him._

_She knows she will not._

_She knows._

_She knows that she will never love another man—female waterbenders can sense their mate; it is rare, but she has read stories of the event happening before, and she is certain that what she feels when she sees Zuko is the kind of love that will never abate, nor disappear._

_"I know that," she smiles, squeezing his hand softly, "and you need to know that I will never love another like I love you."_

_She does not need to look at him to know there is a small, bittersweet smile tugging on the corners of his lips—she knows he will not fully be able to believe that she loves him until they are married. And she is okay with that—she understands that it is his father's fault for making him believe that he is worthless, that none will ever truly love him, and she understands that it will be difficult to make him believe—but she intends to fight for him for the rest of her life, whether he likes it or not._

_He is quiet for a long moment, as though he is gathering his thoughts, turning over her hand in his, her palm up. "Wait for me," he then breathes, his hands shaking when he opens the pouch, shaking out its contents into her open hand._

_"I love you," he repeats, "And I wish to marry you when I am allowed to. Wait for me."_

_Katara gapes at her hand, in awe of the beautiful carved necklace that rests there—she does not recognize the material he used to carve the pendant, but it's beautiful and smooth, the color a mix of gold, blue, red and silver. The design is flawless, a perfect mixture of their two cultures—the waves of the Water Tribe meshing perfectly with the flames of the Fire Nation._

_"Zuko," she whispers, tears filling her eyes—she had feared he would never gather enough courage to ask for her hand—, "Of course." Her hands shake as she removes her mother's necklace from her neck to replace it with her own—the one Zuko has made for her._

_Slowly, she takes his hand and lays her mother's necklace in his hand, curling his fingers around it. "Keep that," she smiles, "as a token of my affection. Your necklace will remind me, and that one will remind you."_

_"Of course," he grins, wrapping the silk around his wrist a few times, securely tying it, "I'll cherish it."_

_"I love you," she chokes, tears of joy running down her cheeks, "I love you and I will miss you so much." She launches herself to him before he gets the chance to respond, pressing her lips to his—he responds eagerly—though chastely, as they are in her grandmother's home, with her standing no more than a few feet away._

_"I will wait for you," she whispers when he pulls away, "forever if I have to."_


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I know I said twoshot, but it was getting too long, so now it's a threeshot :D
> 
> Lemme know what you think! Thanks to those who read, faved, followed and reviewed! You guys are awesome :D
> 
> It can be classified as an AU, and it gets a little dark here and there-just a head's up :) Rated T for implied sexy times and violence.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!
> 
> Love,
> 
> Annaelle

**Smiling Faces Sometimes**

_Smiling faces sometimes pretend to be your friend_  
Smiling faces show no traces of the evil that lurks within  
Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes  
They don't tell the truth  
—Smiling Faces Sometimes, Undisputed Truth

**PART II**

**Katara**

She feels as though she is in a daze.

It's like nothing that is happening is real—something deep within her still protests vehemently against the mere idea of Zuko marrying anyone other than her.

She hadn't protested or fought or attempted to do anything when Aang had given her clean, warm new clothes to dress in—she hadn't questioned where he had gotten Water Tribe pregnancy garments. To be honest, she doesn't care.

She feels sick to her stomach at the thought of being forced to stand by and watch the boy she's loved since they were children marry someone else. She had always— _always_ —believed that Zuko loved her just as much, if not more so, as she loves him. Why would he have jumped in front of a bolt of lightning for her if he did not love her at least as much as she loves him?

She sighs and curls up in a corner of Appa's saddle, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders a little tighter as she watches the beauty of their world flash by—it seems that, in the few months Aang had held her in the small, dark room in one of the Airtemples, the four nations have been doing well. The rebuilding of the nations had already been in motion before Aang had taken her, but at the time, a lot of people had still been bitter about Ozai and Sozin's rule and were reluctant to trust Zuko as the new Fire Lord.

She had understood their reluctance, as did Zuko, but it did make things more difficult than they had to be. Also, in the first month after the end of the war, there had been seventeen attempts on Zuko's life.

Seventeen.

Katara shudders at the memory and closes her eyes, rubbing her hand over her swollen stomach as she focuses on her baby instead—she can sense that the baby is fine, but, even though she isn't quite sure how far along she is, it feels like the baby isn't quite as big as it should be.

She hopes that it will be okay—she will do anything for her and Zuko's baby to be okay.

Even if Zuko is truly moving on only months after she had been taken, her love for him is real, and she loves her baby and she'll do whatever she can to protect her from Aang.

The air around her feels more humid and warmer, and she knows they are fast approaching the Fire Nation. Her feelings on returning to what she had once considered her home—however briefly that may have been—are very conflicted.

She still has trouble reconciling the Zuko that she knows, the man that she loves, that fought so they could have a future together, with the man that Aang is portraying to her—the man that held 'auditions' to pick his future Fire Lady, that supposedly let one of his soldiers take all the women in the 'auditions' for a  _test ride_  before deciding on which one he'd marry.

The man that decided to forsake the vows he had made to her.

It simply doesn't make sense, and she knows that nor Sokka, Iroh or her father would have allowed Zuko to get away with something of the likes that Aang has been trying to tell her. Hell, Toph might have locked Zuko up in a cage with her earth bending until he'd seen the error of his ways had Aang been telling the truth—Suki might very well have neutered him.

So, until they are in the palace, where her friends and family and Zuko will be, she won't be drawing any conclusions, nor will she wonder about it until she gives herself another headache.

She sighs again, tossing the heavy blanket across the saddle and curls up on her side, one hand resting protectively on her baby bump—she will not worry.

She will not plan and plot and strategize.

All she is going to do while Aang flies them to where she has wanted to be all along is sleep and go over good old memories.

.

.

.

**Three years ago**   
**Katara**

_Katara sighs as she watches Aang and her brother skip off to buy supplies, leaving her on her own for the first time in months._

_She loves her brother and Aang, don't get her wrong, but sometimes she just needs some time to… Well, to be a girl. Sometimes, she feels like she hasn't really been herself since she left the South Pole with Aang and Sokka—she's changed a lot, and she's not even sure she likes it._

_She's been mothering both Aang and Sokka and she both hates and loves it._

_So, today, she asked them to take care of their supplies and everything, so she could have an afternoon to herself._

_She runs her hands over her green and white dress nervously, unsure if her Earth Kingdom outfit will make her stand out less than her Water Tribe dress—it's beautiful and the fabric is soft and luxurious, but it doesn't feel quite_ right.

_She wanders through the streets for a while, caught up in the joyous atmosphere before she stops in front of a small teashop, biting her lip as she contemplates spending a few of their bronze coins on a cup of tea—she hasn't had any good tea since they left the South Pole and she's feeling a little homesick._

_She sighs when a memory of Uncle giving her and Zuko an entire lecture on the right and good kind of tea springs to mind, and automatically, she reaches up to touch the pendant Zuko had given her before he left—she hasn't heard from him since._

_"Ah," she sighs, "Why not?"_

_Forcing a smile on her lips, she steps into the teashop, and smiles as one of the waitresses leads her to a small table in a corner before leaving her with a card and a promise to send someone to take her order in a few minutes._

_Katara smiles a little, tracing the little dragon figures along the edges of the card—she's already decided what kind tea she wants—allowing herself to be caught up in memories of the past, of when she'd been happy, when she'd thought she had everything._

_The familiar weight of her necklace offers a small measure of comfort, even though her heart still aches with longing._

_It's been a few months since she and Sokka and Aang left the North Pole, to find a earthbending teacher, and though they have not been bored since—anything but, honestly—Katara is already tiring of the constant traveling and danger._

_She loves helping people, freeing villages that have been suppressed and tormented for years—like Haru's village (she still blushes at the memory of Haru asking her to stay, telling her that he could see a future for them together, that he wished to make her his wife if she allowed him to—she never truly considered it, but the offer had been sweet and flattering and more_ real _than any declaration of affection she had heard since Zuko and Uncle had left)—and the village they'd saved from Jet (she is never thinking that name again, and she's suspecting he drugged her with something, because all she feels for him now is revulsion and before he offered her a drink, all she felt was polite interest)._

_She wants to fight to end the war that has destroyed so many lives, and she will, but she is a little weary of having to do it while mothering her brother and Aang._

_"Hello, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, what may I get for you?"_

_"I'll take a cup o—" She falters mid-sentence as she looks up at the boy standing before her with his eyes still on the notepad in his hand—her heart flutters and her jaw drops, and she is fairly certain she has forgotten how to speak._

_He has changed, grown taller and stronger—his hair has grown, partially covering the tell-all scar, but it's_ him _._

 _"Z—Zuko?" Her voice is shaky and faint, and she probably sounds like a frightened child, but she doesn't_ care _. He visibly stiffens before he slowly looks up from his notepad, his beautiful golden eyes wide and startled and a little frightened—and she can_ see  _the moment he realizes that it's her._

 _"Katara," he breathes, dropping the notepad as he falls to his knees before her, closing the distance between them immediately, pressing his lips to hers for the first time in_ years _. She doesn't protest—she doesn't want to. Instead, she simply sinks into the kiss, sighing happily against his soft lips, weaving her fingers into his thick, soft hair._

 _The kiss is slow and languid and she marvels at how_ calm _she feels—how Zuko needs no more than a simple touch to make her feel like she belongs._

_Slowly, she breaks the kiss, pressing their foreheads together as they sit, locked in their intimate embrace. She takes a few moments to calm herself, to get a handle on the tidal wave of emotions that threatens to overtake her completely. Her eyes are burning with tears—whether of happiness or sadness, she doesn't know—and she has to fight not to burst into sobs right there._

_She has so many questions._

_Why had he not written her, like he promised? Why had he stayed away for so long? How is Uncle doing? Why is he here, in Ba Sing Se? Does he still love her? Has he moved on with a nice Earth Kingdom girl? Would he do that? Is that why he hasn't reached out to her?_

_She gasps when he pulls away from the embrace slowly, her eyes wide and tearful as they lock on his. "Zuko…" she breathes, her voice barely more than a whispers, loaded with an amount of emotion too great to put into words._

_At the sound of her voice, a shuddering gasp falls from Zuko's lips, his hand shaking as he reaches up to touch Katara's cheek. "You are here," he whispers roughly, "I can't believe you're here."_

_"Me either," she chuckles weakly, a tear rolling down her cheek as she speaks. She can see the conflict in his eyes—he never could stand to see her cry—before he reaches for her hands, entwining their fingers and kissing her forehead sweetly._

_"Come," he says softly, "I'll take you someplace where we can talk freely."_

_She allows him to pull her to her feet, following him to the back of the shop, up the stairs into a small, sparsely decorated room. She watches as he paces the room, unsure of what to do or say now that they're alone._

_"So…" she drawls, leaning back against the door slightly, "How long have you been here?"_

_She can almost hear his neck crack when his head snaps back around to look at her. "A while," he says slowly, "Uncle started to get better, but as soon as we left, he relapsed. He needs constant healing from the village healer—I would've come back sooner if I could have, but Uncle needed me."_

_She nods—she understands Zuko's loyalty to his Uncle; after all, the man is the only_ real _father figure Zuko's really had. "Why didn't you write?" She questions softly, trying to keep her voice from shaking, "You promised you'd write and then—"_

 _"What are you talking about?" Zuko interrupts angrily, smoke erupting from his nostrils, "I wrote to you_ every day _for over a year!"_

_She stares at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times before her own temper gets the best of her and she bursts._ _Before she realizes what she's doing, she's across the room, slapping him so hard, she's pretty sure he'll bruise, shoving him back against the wall, tears slipping down her cheeks uncontrollably—everything she'd been trying to hide, everything she so desperately didn't want to feel just pours out, and she can't stop it._

_"You_ left _me," she cries, her voice breaking in the middle of the sentence, punching him in the shoulder as hard as she can, one insult after the other spilling from her lips, and he's just standing there and taking it and_ why isn't he fighting back _?_

 _All the fight drains out of her, and she slumps forward, the whirlwind of emotions and hurt and everything finally slowing down so she can_ breathe _, into his arms. "You promised," she whimpers quietly, sliding her fingers through his hair with one hand, while curling the fingers of her other hand into his shirt, "You promised you'd write, that you would come back for me and you_ didn't _."_

_"I thought you didn't want me to," he whispers brokenly, sifting his fingers through her hair—she smiles a little; he always did love her hair. "I got a letter a few months ago," he continues, "asking me to stop writing, and to return your mother's necklace—that you'd changed your mind."_

_She pushes him back, staring up at him with wide, astonished eyes. "I didn't write that," she says slowly, "I didn't get_ any _of your letters."_ _He smiles sadly, trailing his fingers down her cheek to wipe away a tear that fell, "Yeah… I figured that out about a minute ago."_

_She drops her eyes to his wrist, slowly pulling up his sleeve to expose his wrist, her heart breaking when she realizes that he really did take off the necklace she had entrusted him with. "You sent it back," she says hollowly, resting her fingers on his warm skin, "You believed that I wouldn't love you anymore."_

_"I didn't," he shakes his head, leaning in until their foreheads are once again pressed together, his lips only inches from hers, "I still have it. I just couldn't… I couldn't bring myself to send it."_

_She sighs in relief, leaning in to kiss him, sliding her arms around his neck comfortably as he hauls her against his body. He smirks against her lips but kisses her back, hungrily and desperately, unlike he had that last time, before he left the South Pole, as she melts into his arms, the kiss going on and on until his lungs scream for oxygen, and he has to break the kiss._

_"I love you," he whispers, his fingers curling into her hair, "and now that I got you back, I am never letting you go again."_

_She has absolutely no problems with that._

.

.

.

 **Katara**  
She recognizes the lands they are flying over—won't be long now.

They'll be landing in the palace's courtyards in less than ten minutes, and she's no longer sure she's strong enough to see her friends and her brother and Zuko and not break down immediately—she's  _so_  scared of Aang taking her again, of him forcing her away from Zuko and Sokka and Toph and Suki again.

She rubs her belly anxiously, praying to every deity she knows, thanking them for allowing her this opportunity, and begging them to help her through the next few hours.

She doesn't know why no one came looking for her—Aang took her minutes before her own wedding, it can't be that no one realized she was gone—and she's willing to overlook that fact if they can just stop Aang from taking her again. If they can guarantee that her baby will be safe—from the moment she had realized she was with child, she had been terrified that Aang's delusion would be forcibly broken when they baby is born—if her child looks like Zuko (and she has no doubt that her baby will look a lot like her father), Aang would be forced to admit that the baby isn't his, and Katara is still terrified of what he'll do when that happens.

"We're almost there," Aang tells her excitedly, "Aren't you so excited to see everyone again?"

Katara forces a smile on her face and nods. "Yeah, of course. I missed Sokka and my dad a lot." Aang nods and a sympathetic look crosses his face, followed closely by a look of remorse that startles her a little—in all the time that he's held her, Aang has never showed any kind of remorse for what he was doing.

"I am sorry," he says slowly, "But I couldn't let you make the mistake of marrying Zuko—you and I are supposed to be together, and when you see that, you will be happy again. I promise."

Her heart clenches painfully, because she can  _hear_  the longing in Aang's voice and it makes her feel like a horrible person—even though she knows she's always been clear to everyone about who she was in love with, especially when Aang confessed that he had feelings for her too—because she knows that the Aang she knew, the boy that was her friend, deserves someone to love him as she loved—loves—Zuko.

He just needs accept, somehow, that it is not her, and that it is never going to be her.

She doesn't reply and simply looks down, forcing herself not to react when she feels Appa descend—just a few more minutes…

Just. A. Little. Longer.

.

.

.

**Seven months ago**   
**Katara**

_"I can't believe that in a few days, we will finally be married."_

_She snuggles deeper into Zuko's arms, closing her eyes contently as his warm fingers trail over the naked skin of her back. They are both dressed only in their wrappings, having just bathed together._

_Her head rests on his chest, where she can listen to the steady staccato of his heartbeat, her hand covering the scar that Azula's lightning left—she'd been terrified she'd lost him when he jumped in front of the bolt; she'd been enraged and determined and she knows that's the only reason she was able to defeat Azula and heal Zuko._

_She's been terrified quite a few times in the last couple weeks, since they defeated Azula and Ozai—not everyone took the end of the war as well as they should have._

_There are a lot of people who still support Ozai's crazy ideas of the Fire Nation having the right to rule the other nations, and they refuse to accept Zuko as their new Fire Lord—it's why their wedding had been pushed back a few weeks._

_They'd needed to deal with the continued attempts on his life._

_Because of that, and so much more, it still feels so surreal, lying in bed with Zuko—the bed that would be their marital bed pretty soon—the bed they had dreamed of sharing since their relationship had become romantic._

_The soft silk feels delicious against her cool skin, and her heart is threatening to burst with how happy and content she feels._

_"Me either," Zuko finally replies, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his hand moving to rest on top of hers on his chest, "but I am pleased—our future can finally begin now." She nods and smiles, knowing Aang and Sokka and Suki and Toph are all safely tucked in their own beds here in the palace, their doors guarded by two of their most trusted guards each._

_"Do you think Gran Gran and dad will be here in time?" She questions quietly, propping her chin up on his chest, eyeing him nervously—she wants her father to be here when she finally gets to marry Zuko, and Gran Gran too._

_Despite the very recent_ huge _argument she and Zuko had with Gran Gran when they realized she had been the reason Katara had never gotten any of Zuko's letters from the Earth Kingdom, she does love her grandmother and she wants her to be there on the biggest day of her life—so far anyway._

_She's sure that when she and Zuko have children, the wedding will have to relinquish its place as most amazing day of her life._

_"I hope so," he smiles down at her, "Uncle is arriving tomorrow—I do think he's more excited about this than we are—and I think your father's last messenger bird said that they weren't far from the Fire Nation anymore."_

_He grins devilishly and pulls her up towards him, so she's effectively straddling him, whispering, "Though I think we might have to keep_ this _to ourselves—your father and grandmother would tan my hide if they knew I had taken your innocence before our wedding night."_

 _She glares at him—he's right though, they really would—, an involuntarily smile tugging on her lips when she sees the love in his eyes; she knows he'll see it mirrored in her eyes. "I love you," he says softly, "And I can't wait to marry you."_ _She giggles and leans down to kiss him again, squealing against is lips in surprise when he flips them, settling comfortably between her legs as he continues to kiss the hell out of her_.

_She wraps her arms around his neck as he slips his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers, both wrestling for dominance. Her fingers twist in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, his hands leisurely wandering over her body. She would be shy, but it's nothing he hasn't seen, touched or kissed before, and she loves the way his touch makes her feel. She hums against his lips in protest when she feels him harden against her thigh, breaking the kiss reluctantly. "I can't go again, Zuko," she breathes against his lips, "I'll be sore tomorrow and I don't want to walk with a limp when your Uncle gets here."_

_Zuko groans a little, but chuckles and nods, pressing one more searing kiss against her lips before wriggling down her body, resting his head on her chest,_ _both enjoying the content feeling that filled them after laying in each other's arms all night without interruption. Her fingers start playing with his hair, and she almost feels like purring_ —s _he loves this feeling._

 _She loves sleeping in Zuko's arms_ — _it makes her feel safer than anything else._

 _She smirks lightly when he literally purrs as her fingers stroke that soft spot behind his ear_ — _the spot that drives him insane whenever she touches it_ — _and she finds herself smiling, wishing moments like these_ — _peaceful, easy moments—would last into eternity._

_Of course, she knows that isn't likely._

_"I love you," she breathes, briefly stroking his cheek, before she resumes stroking his soft, silky hair.  
She feels his lashes tickle her skin when he closes his eyes, before he presses a soft, sweet, innocent kiss to her breast._

_"I love you too," he whispers, his fingers tracing invisible circles on the soft skin of her stomach. It tingles, sending shivers down her spine._

_"Katara?" He mutters after a short, comfortable silence._

_"Hmm?"_

_"I know I have already asked for your hand following your Tribe's traditions," he whispers—leaning up on his elbows to look her in the eye—tightening his grip on her hip slightly._

_She giggled. "Hmm… You_ did _. It was very sweet."_

_He rolls his eyes at her and smirks when she tugs on his hair lightly—she doesn't need to tell him what she wants and she loves it—he just knows. She tugs at his hair again when he doesn't move, pulling him up to her lips—a request to which he happily obliges._

_He kisses her languidly, her fingers curling into his hair with one hand, while her other hand rests on his lower back, pulling his hard, muscled body against hers. She loves the way he presses into her, the way his body just seems to fit perfectly with hers._

_She can't wait to be married to him—to be able to claim him in a way no one else has ever done before—to have him in a way no one else will ever have him._

_Of course, he claims she is the only one he has ever loved—and the only one he has ever taken to his bed—, the only one that has ever held his heart, but she knows he has cared about others before and after her, when they were separated—Jin, Mai, hell, even Ty Lee… But she will be the only to put a ring on his finger and claim him as hers for the rest of their lives._

_Slowly, she remembers there was something he was going to say before she kissed him—her curiosity peaks and she pulls away from his lips, giggling at his pout. "You were going to say something," she reminds him, tracing his jaw with her fingers._

_He sighs and drops his forehead to hers, and reaches for something in the bedside cabinet, his eyes locked on hers. After a few tantalizing seconds, he finds what he is looking for and withdraws his hand from the drawer, his prize clutched tightly in his fist._

_"So," he begins—and he sounds almost nervous—, "I know I asked already in your traditions—but I would love it if we could use Fire Nation traditions as well…So can I do it again? The way I would've proposed to you if we had grown up here?"_

_She nearly swoons—Good La; that man is dangerously attractive when he is being arrogant and spoiled, but he is nearly lethal when he is being all sweet and charming._

_"Of course you can," she whispers, leaning up to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. "Of course."_

_"I love you," he begins, "I love you more than I ever thought possible. I don't want to lose you, or let you go. Never. I was so stupid when we first met—I was stubborn and scared and I'm glad that you knocked some sense into me before I lost my chance with you. And I love you, and I want to tell you that every single day, for the rest of our lives. I want you forever." He takes a shaky breath. "So marry me, Katara."_

_She gasps, blinking away the tears that had formed in her eyes during his little speech, and stares at the beautiful, simple ring that he is holding up. It looks silver, but she can tell that it's not because of the warmth she feel radiating off it._

_It is simple and beautiful and unique— He knows she does not enjoy ostentatious jewelry, and this is not too much, but not too little either._

_"Oh, La, Zuko," she breathes, "Yes, yes, yes!" Slowly, and very carefully, he lifts her hand and slides the ring onto her finger, barely getting the time to admire the ring on her finger before she pounces on him, kissing him as though her life depends on it._

_His fingers fist in her hair as he kisses her passionately, pouring every ounce of love he possesses for her in the kiss._

_For the first time, he is sure she'd always be his._

_He loves her and she loves him._

_That is all that matters._

_._

_._

_._

**Katara**

Her eyes are still closed tightly—she's afraid she'll open them and realize this is all a dream—but that doesn't stop her heart from clenching when she feels Appa plop down on the ground, and she hears the excited chattering of people around them.

"Oh La," she breathes, "Give me strength."

Slowly, her eyes still half squeezed shut, she climbs from Appa's saddle, sliding down his tail carefully, her hand cradling her belly protectively. "Katara!" She doesn't get the chance to look around or move before she is suddenly engulfed in her brothers arms as he hugs her tightly from behind, "I can't believe you're finally here! I've missed you so much! We all have!"

Katara stiffens, liquid rage pouring through her veins— _how dare he act like she left voluntarily and didn't go through hell in the past few months_ — _like she wasn't kidnapped right outside of her own wedding_? She turns around to yell at him, to let out all of the fear and rage and hurt of the past few months, only to catch him staring at her intently, glancing intently at her belly and then behind her, over and over again, and it's not until Aang appears at her side with a slightly maniacal smile that she realizes what he means.

 _Not now_.  _Wait until we're alone_.

"I missed you too," she says after a beat of silence, "Where's everyone else?" She looks around curiously, a little unnerved by the filthy looks the servants are giving her, biting her lip before turning back to Sokka, wordlessly pleading with him to take her as far away from Aang as he can.

"Oh, Toph and Suki are with Mai," Sokka smiles widely, "She's freaking out about the wedding, so she'll be really glad you're here too—she's still a little afraid Zuko might change his mind."

Katara's stomach clenches and she feels nauseous. "M—Mai? Zuko's marrying Mai?"

Sokka nods, and she has to give her brother credit, she's never seen him lie this before—but she can tell that he's lying. She's not sure what's going on, and she's not sure why everyone seems to play along with Aang's delusion, but she isn't going to ask.

She'll just play along until she can get Sokka on his own and ask him what the hell is going on here.

"That's great," she forces a smile on her face, "I'll have to go congratulate her… Sokka, would you show me to where she and the others are?" She chances a glance at Aang, who looks anything but pleased at the suggestion, but Sokka picks right up on her intention and smiles, nodding eagerly, pulling her to his side and waving off Aang.

"Of course. Aang, we'll see you later at dinner, okay?"

He doesn't wait for a reply before almost dragging her towards the palace—the private bedrooms, she realizes immediately. Her mind immediately conjures up an image of the last time she'd walked—stumbled—down this hallway with Zuko, stopping every two steps to laugh and giggle and kiss, back when everything had been alright and when she had been sure that he loved her.

_No. Bad Katara—no thinking about Zuko's apparently fickle affection._

"Sokka," she hisses when she trips over her own feet  _again_ , "Sokka, slow down—I can't walk so fast anymore… The baby…" Sokka stops dead in his tracks, his eyes glued to her stomach like it's the first time he sees it.

"Oh La," he chokes, "Please tell me Zuko did that."

"Sokka," Katara exclaims, slapping his chest angrily, "Of course  _Zuko_  did that. What kind of girl do you think I am?" She chuckles when he cries out dramatically, shielding himself from her slaps with his arms as he squeals, "I figured Zuko did that, but I…" He drops his playful façade and looks at her, sadness coloring his otherwise cheerful eyes. "You disappeared on your wedding day. We didn't know what happened for ages—I still don't know what Aang did to you in the time he had you."

Katara swallows thickly and looks down, dropping her hand to her swollen belly. "Well, not that," she says hoarsely, "Not that." There's a beat of silence before she manages to get a hold of herself, shaking her head and whispering, "How long did he have me in the first place? I lost track of time after a while."

"Five months," Sokka chokes, stepping forward to touch her cheek gently, "We looked everywhere, but we couldn't find you—and we couldn't be too obvious about it, because we couldn't let Aang know we were onto him, so it was even harder and with Zuko out, it—"

"Wait, what?" Katara exclaims, her eyes wide and startled, "What do you mean 'with Zuko out'? Where is he?" Her heart starts pounding painfully in her chest and a sharp pain shoots through her stomach, her muscles tensing harshly.

Sokka's eyes widen as she curls in on herself, her breath coming out in short, fast pants and the warrior feels a pang of sorrow at his sister's obvious distress.

He truly hates seeing his baby sister in such pain, and it had killed him to know that wherever Aang had taken her, she was probably in pain. He wants nothing more than to see his sister happy—it's why he had pleaded with his father to let Katara and Zuko marry after all; Sokka had known that no one could make Katara as happy as Zuko could.

And now…. Now Sokka would give anything to see his baby sister smile again—that sweet, innocent, beautiful smile that he once feared he'd never see again.

He contemplates his next course of action quickly—he's not entirely sure how to handle women with their female… emotions… and … stuff.

Especially pregnant women who also happen to be his sister.

He shakes his head once again and simply decides to attempt to talk to her—she's obviously scared and worried and he feels like a fool for making her worry in her condition. "Katara, look at me," he whispers gently, "Please. Jerkben—Zuko is going to be okay, I promise—and you and the little squirt too."

She shudders, shakes her head and continues sobbing, not even responding to his accidental slip-up—she hates it when he insults her (almost-)husband and he knows it.

He closes his eyes in contemplation for a moment, attempting desperately to regroup his thoughts—he knows eye contact is vital if he is going to calm her down. Her breaths are shallow and uneven, and he is certain it cannot be healthy, nor for her or the baby.

"Come on," he whines softly—why does this always happen to him? He doesn't know a damn thing about comforting women—when her breathing remains as hard and fast as it was before, her cheeks tinted with bright red. He can see the pure and undiluted fear in her eyes and it sends waves of pain rocking through his body.

He doesn't want her to be afraid.

He's never wanted her to be afraid and he hates himself for not having been able to protect her—and Zuko. He wants to give her anything she wants, as long as she is happy and safe—anything at all.

As he overthinks—like he usually does,  _idiot_  that he is—Katara sinks deeper into the panic attack, panic and fear clawing their way into her heart as she keeps shaking her head, choking, "No, no, no, no, no…"

"Come on, sis," Sokka cajoles, kneeling in front of her to hug her close, "You can do this, calm down. Just have a little faith—I wouldn't let your stupid jerkbender die. He's okay, I promise—now you need to breathe and make sure you and the little one are okay."

Nothing he says seems to make even the slightest difference, but he does notice how her muscles relax a little where he's holding her, and the answer hits him suddenly, almost like an epiphany—or one of Toph's Rocks Of Education—and he thanks the Spirits for giving him insight on how to handle the situation.

Physical contact.

He needs to hold her. Keep talking to her. Breathe with her.

With that thought in mind, he crawled to a wall, leans his back against it, pulls his little sister into his arms, so her back is pressed against his chest, and wraps his arms around her. "I need you to focus on breathing, Katara," he explains in hushed whispers—he doesn't want anyone to hear him and disturb them, not now that he's so close to figuring out how to help her, "I'll breathe with you. Breathe with me, okay?"

She nods shakily.

He takes a deep breath to steady his own nerves and whispers, "Okay… Breathe in…" She takes a shaky breath at the same time as he does. "… And out," he whispers in her ear, breathing with her, hugging her close and rocking her gently, like he had when they were children, when she'd had nightmares about their mother's death.

Her breathing is still ragged and unsteady, and it scares the hell out of him. What if he can't calm her down? What if the baby isn't okay?

Dear Spirits—he needs her—them—to be okay.

"In…" he whispers, desperately trying to ignore the growing ball of panic in the pit of his stomach, "… And out." She is shaking, her breathing more like constant sobs, wheezing in her lungs. He can feel her heart thrumming against his fingers, where his hand rests just below her sternum, and he is slightly alarmed by the speed of her heart.

She needs to calm down now.

"You need to calm yourself," he whispers, drawing absent-minded circles on her swollen stomach, where his other hand rests, "you will be okay. There is nothing to be afraid of—we won't let Aang take you again, and we're going to take care of you and the baby and Zuko, I promise."

She is still shaking and crying, but her breathing  _has_  slowed a tiny little bit, which is an immense achievement already. "He said I'd never escape," she chokes, "that the baby is his—I don't know what he'll do when he's forced to admit she's Zuko's."

Sokka chokes back the bile that rose in his throat at the mere thought of someone—especially Aang, who he'd thought was their friend—hurting Katara and his little niece or nephew and shakes his head, tightening his embrace on her slightly.

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," he mutters, rocking her gently, "We have a plan to help you and Zuko  _and_  Aang. Monk Gyatso is here too—we'll help Aang and he'll see that he made a mistake and you're going to be safe, I promise." He continues rocking her softly, whispering nonsense in her ear, keeping her focused on his voice as she calms down slowly, her breathing and heartbeat slowing down to a healthier level.

He is slightly more comfortable now it seems she is going to be okay, but continues to whisper to her, holding her close as she continues crying softly. He focuses his attention on his girl, who is calmer now, her sobs nearly stopping completely—but she is still shaking in fear.

"Feeling better?" He asks softly, when the tremors and sobs subside slightly. She sniffs softly, but shakes her head. "I just… I spent so long thinking I'd never see you again and—you said Zuko's out and Aang said he's getting married and—"

She breaks off in another sob, and he's baffled by her reasoning, his brain stopping short at her ridiculous statements.

"Katara," he frowns at her, "Come on, you know Zuko loves you more than life itself—he's not going to marry Mai, that was just something we came up with to lure Aang into letting you out so we could help you! We all love you—every single one of us." He hesitates before he shrugs and rambles, "Well, except maybe Mai, but she loves Zuko and she wants him to be happy and she knows he needs you for that, so…"

He watches her eyes tear up and her lower lip quiver and curses himself for making her cry again as he pulls her into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "Shh, Katara, it will be okay," he whispers, desperately wishing she'd stop crying.

He lets her cry though, knowing that she's probably held it in the entire time Aang had had her.

She mumbles something incoherent into his shirt, and he finds myself muttering, "What was that?" Before he considered that maybe, he didn't want to know what she was asking.

She looks up at him, her eyes wide and determined—damn, he's in trouble—, as she states, "If he loves me… And he's not going to marry Mai… Where is he?" When he doesn't reply, Katara pushes herself to her feet, cradling her stomach protectively as she glares at her older brother.

"Sokka," she hisses, "Where. Is. My. Husband?"


End file.
